Authors note: Yes, it's been done before, heck I've done a 'they've been captured and are being hunted' story before...but they're such fun to write. I hope you enjoy it.

Title mercilessly stolen/adapted from 'Hunting High and Low' – A-Ha.

No End to the Lengths We'll Go

Chapter One

The house was big, the room they were stood in was big. Everything about Legrand suited his name. They were yet to meet the man in question, but they knew, from a brief description that he was a big broad man.

The large library had an expansive desk with an impressive chair behind it. There was a long sideboard and a large table with several heavy looking chairs around it. There was minimal clutter and the large windows, that opened onto a well-manicured lawn were plain.

D'Artagnan had been despatched with Aramis to deliver a letter to Gervais Legrand. Treville had intimated that Legrand would not be happy with the contents of the letter and that they were to wait for a reply.

D'Artagnan sighed inwardly when he remembered how they had ended up on the simple message delivery. He and Aramis had been sparring with a couple of Cadets who were both soundly beaten. The two Musketeers had been a bit cocky about their win, all in good fun, but Treville had decided that they needed to be reminded that they were not above simple tasks and had handed Aramis the letter with a conspiratorial wink toward the two beaten Cadets. Aramis had made a theatrical bow to Treville as he walked away causing the Cadets to snigger almost landing Aramis in proper trouble when Treville turned back towards them.

Now, after a dusty ride, they were waiting, still, for Legrand to put in an appearance. The day was warm, a little too warm for their uniforms to be comfortable but they were used to that. He guessed that Aramis would have liked to have been offered a drink as much as he wanted one. But they had been shown into the library and told that Legrand would be back shortly. D'Artagnan estimated they had been waiting for thirty minutes already.

Aramis had wandered about the impressive room for a while looking at the book, he had not dared to take any out to look at them properly; although d'Artagnan could tell his friend wanted to.

'Shall we start betting on how long he's going to be?' said Aramis idly as he stopped his slow stroll around the room to look across the lawn towards the tree line.

'Surely he can't keep us here much longer, it's already been too long,' remarked d'Artagnan, glancing towards the open door as the servant who had let them in walked passed.

The young man, d'Artagnan thought he was a couple of years younger than himself, had seemed very timid. He had quietly shown them into the library. They had hardly been able to hear him speak before he silently walked away again.

The other servants they had seen also behaved very timidly. The two stable boys who took their horses almost looked malnourished.

A male voice shouted in the hallway outside the room, 'I told you I wanted them ready. You know I cannot predict when I will need them.'

A sharp slap and the sound of a body hitting the ground had d'Artagnan walking towards the door only to find himself facing a man taller than himself by a couple of inches. The man was broad as well, d'Artagnan wondered if even Porthos would be a little intimidated by his size. They had spotted a large horse on their way to the house and had wondered then if the man who would ride it was a giant.

'Where are you going? Don't they teach you patience?'

D'Artagnan stepped back as the man walked passed. He glanced into the hall in time to see the timid servant walking away, rubbing his arm as he did so. The man's shirt was untucked on one side. It was clear he had been the one to fall to the floor.

As he turned back to the room he saw Aramis approach the man and hand him the letter. Legrand snatched it from the marksman and turned his back on them both as he walked to his desk ripping the seal as he did so.

D'Artagnan went to stand with Aramis and watched as Legrand read the letter.

The tall man wore a simple, but expensive looking, black doublet and breeches. He had riding boots on and a riding crop tucked under his arm. Legrand was clean shaven, with a strong, square jaw. He had short black hair.

After a few minutes Legrand turned towards them both, he took a couple of steps forward in an attempt to appear more intimidating. A move which might have worked on his timid young servant or the stable boys, but it did not cause the Musketeers to react.

'You can go,' he said.

'We were told to wait for your reply,' said Aramis.

'My lack of reply should be reply enough, leave.'

Aramis paused for a moment before speaking again, 'as you wish, Monsieur, but the King will be disappointed that his request for a reply has not been followed.'

Legrand stared at them both for a few seconds before looking towards the door.

'Gilbert,' he yelled.

The servant appeared in the doorway a few seconds later.

'See them out,' he said.

Gilbert hesitated.

'What?' said the man walking towards him.

The servant looked like he wanted to move away but remained where he was.

'Cook wants to know how many will be dining tonight?'

'I will let him know in due course…'

When the servant did not move, Legrand raised his hand and struck the slight man who had no time to react. The force of the blow sent the servant into the door frame. He crumpled to the floor where he remained for a couple of seconds before scrambling up again, this time out of reach of Legrand.

D'Artagnan found himself being held back by Aramis. He had not realised he had walked halfway across the room. Aramis had a firm hold of his arm. D'Artagnan looked back at his friend. Aramis slowly shook his head. It was clear the marksman did not approve of the way Legrand had just treated his servant, but he also knew it was not wise for them to interfere.

Legrand had turned back, he looked at them both for a couple of seconds before moving back to his desk and taking a seat.

Aramis made a small, respectful bow before turning his back on the man and leaving the room. D'Artagnan could not bring himself to show any respect and simply followed his friend.

Gilbert was waiting for them in the hallway, he had his head slightly lowered. Once they were out of sight of Legrand, Aramis crossed to the young man and gently lifted his head up and looked at the mark left on his cheek from the strike.

Gilbert flinched away at the touch, but Aramis reached out with his other hand and gently squeezed the scared young man's shoulder and smiled at him.

'I have something in my bag that will help with the bruising,' Aramis said quietly.

Gilbert looked at him for a few seconds, d'Artagnan wondered if Aramis was the first person to show him kindness.

The servant looked down again before replying, his words barely audible, 'it's alright, the cook has a herbal mixture that lessons the effect.'

Aramis nodded and allowed Gilbert to show them to the door. It was clear the servant was used to being hurt. If the cook was prepared to deal with minor injuries it was probably not an uncommon occurrence.

Gilbert left them at the door as the stable boys brought their horses up to them. Aramis was about to give the boys a coin each from his purse, but Gilbert spoke again.

'He won't like them having any money, it would make it worse.'

Aramis turned back to Gilbert, he reached out his hand towards the servant, 'if you give it to the cook can he source a little extra food for them without your master knowing?'

Gilbert slowly extended his hand and took the coins, he nodded with a slight smile.

'Thank you, Monsieur.'

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'It is cruel,' said Aramis with resignation, 'but there is nothing we can do.'

'I hate it,' replied d'Artagnan, 'that poor man, I doubt he's got enough money to travel anywhere else to even look for work.'

They had ridden away from the house without a second look. Aramis had hated watching the way Legrand treated his servant. The slight young man had fading bruises on his face and wrists. Aramis suspected Gilbert was grabbed and pushed about by the larger man frequently. He had disliked having to stop d'Artagnan from interfering. He had wanted to treat the brute of a landowner a lesson just as much as his friend had. But they were on the King's business, although neither of them knew what that business was. The contents of the letter remained a mystery to them both. It cannot have been pleasant. Legrand's reaction to the letter told them that much.

Aramis tried to put the event out of his mind and enjoy the ride back to Paris. The countryside was pretty. Small woods dotted the landscape of rolling hills. A rocky, scrubby area a couple of miles away added interest to the view. The ground was hard and dry after a couple of weeks with no rain, but it had not been dry long enough to cause the smaller streams to dry out. All in all, the day was pleasant, marred only by the brutish man who owned the large house they were riding away from.

As the road took them through one of the wooded areas they slowed the horses to a walk to pick their way through the overgrowth. The combination of rain the month before and now several days of sunshine had led to many bushes and creeping plants growing quickly making the going a little harder for the horses. But, at a walk, the well-trained beasts could move with ease.

Something made Aramis look across to his right, some small movement had seemed out of place. D'Artagnan, who was riding next to him turned to follow his gaze.

'What is it?' he asked quietly.

'Not sure...might be nothing.'

'It's never nothing,' replied d'Artagnan wryly.

Both Musketeers pulled their guns at the same time as several men surrounded them. Aramis' mare became restless, it took him a few seconds to calm her and look back up at the men. At least ten, armed men had appeared from behind rocks and trees. All were aiming guns at them. Several more men on horseback were also appearing.

The men were all wearing the same black hooded cloaks. The hoods were all up. Aramis could not see any of their faces. He realised he could not be sure all the riders were men, but he did not like to think of women acting in such a manner.

One of the riders, who wore brown boots urged his horse forward a little closer. He reached up and pulled down his hood. The man, in his late twenties, had dirty blond hair. He had a scar on his jawline which when inflicted would have been a nasty wound.

'You are two men against thirty. You may take out a couple of us before you are overwhelmed. If you take out any of us you will be hurt in return.'

Neither Aramis or d'Artagnan responded. Aramis scanned the group of men. He knew d'Artagnan was doing the same, looking for a way past or through them. They knew they could not take on that many men at once, a few at a time, perhaps, but not all at once.

Four of the men on foot approached them. Aramis allowed himself to be disarmed, keeping his own hands in sight, he did not want to antagonise anyone.

'What do you want?' asked d'Artagnan, directing his question to the blond man.

The man ignored him, merely nodding towards the two men on horseback beside him. They approached, stopping next to them, pulling roped from under their cloaks. Even in such close proximity, Aramis could not see the men's faces.

The man next to him reached forward and took Aramis' left wrist and pulled it forward to rest at the front of his saddle, he did not resist the man. The rope was employed to tie his wrist to the front of his saddle, he moved his right arm forward before the man could grab him, once he was fully restrained he looked up at the man in front of them who had smugly watched.

'What do you want with us?' said d'Artagnan again as he pulled away from the man who had moved to the other side of him and was trying to tie his hands.

Aramis tried to warn his friend but d'Artagnan was too angry, glaring at the blond man who simply nodded to the man beside d'Artagnan.

Before Aramis could protest the hooded man had hit d'Artagnan hard enough to render him unconscious. Aramis instinctively leaned across to his brother but was pulled back by the man who had restrained him.

D'Artagnan was not allowed to fall from his horse, he was grabbed by a couple of the men and pulled around to lie across the horse and secured to it.

'He didn't deserve that,' spat Aramis towards the blond man.

'If he had stayed quiet it wouldn't have happened,' the man said with a snarling grin, 'perhaps you should heed the advice and not speak again...or you will be treated in the same manner...or I may just run your friend through.'

Aramis glared at the man but did not speak again. With d'Artagnan unconscious his hopes of them escaping were now gone, he would not abandon his brother should the opportunity to escape present itself. It would either be both of them or neither.

The blond man walked his horse forward until he was next to Aramis. He pulled out a strip of cloth and tied it over Aramis' eyes leaving him without any sight. His weapons belts were undone and removed, pulled from him roughly.

He was aware of the reins to the horse being taken and the horse being turned. From the sounds around him, he guessed that all the men, both on foot and on horseback were on the move. But Aramis had no idea where they were going.

MMMM